


A Grand Affaire

by gilbertnorrells



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilbertnorrells/pseuds/gilbertnorrells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by the film, A Royal Affair. a young Queen Regina (Mills) befriends and falls in love with Robin (Hood), and the two have an affair. How will it end for them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01

_ People grow when they are loved well. If you want to help others heal, love them without an agenda. _   
Mike McHargue

 

The trees rustled to life with the approaching winter winds and snow close on the horizon. Sitting on a bench under her apple tree, she identified with the snow. Not with its symbolism of purity or innocence. No, she felt connected to snow because of its frigidness; how it covered the Earth in an icy layer and hid everything from view. Much like she did on a daily basis. It was what she was good at, putting up those walls and never letting anyone see past them. Only socializing with a handful of people and then spending the remaining hours of each day with Henry or here under the apple tree, the sun warming her skin.

 

Hiding from all but one person. The one person who never judged her. Who always loved her unconditionally. He was all that she truly had left to care about after Daniel died. Six years, and whenever her memories of _him_ started to fade, she'd look through her Book of Spells for an incantation so she could relive a particular moment. But what she did have left of Daniel, that one person they secretly shared – she cherished him. And oh, what happiness he brought her.

 

Taking a deep breath, Regina tipped her head back and looked up at what once held the reddest and most delicious apples. Where the apples had once hung and the leaves had crowded for attention, now the branches were bare and looked like nature's version of veins. She consoled herself with the fact that, in another few months, she'd have her tree and her apples back. In the meantime, she had this spot to withdraw from those around her whenever she wanted. Both she and Henry.

 

This spot was hers and hers alone – it was one of the few deals she had made with Leopold. No one could touch it or do any harm to the apple tree. She told him she'd tend it herself, if need be. However, it did not come to that. The castle, of course, had its own groundskeeper and he took care of Regina's apple tree for her. _With pleasure,_ she heard him say when Leopold had assigned the apple tree to the groundskeeper, saying it was a special assignment. He hadn't been cruel about it, nor had he been kind about it, either. As with everything that involved Regina, he had discussed it in an indifferent manner. Nonetheless, Regina had been pleased – and hearing a touch of interest and warmth in the ground keeper's voice gave Regina hope that he would take genuine care of her tree. And he had.

 

**“Your majesty.”** Regina's body flinched at the sound of an intruder and she opened her eyes, turning her head to see who it was who dared to interrupt one of her few moments of serenity nowadays. Her eyes fell upon a tall figure with an unshaven jawline, tanned skin from working outdoors. It was him, the one who had shown her apple tree such dedication. How long had he been standing there, watching her? She was unnerved by his presence and the fact that he was intruding upon her personal space. Yet despite that, she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment of his presence and gestured for him to continue speaking, sensing there was more he wanted to say. **“Your tree will bloom again,”** he continued, assuring her and giving voice to her thoughts. She pressed her lips together firmly, tilting her head to the side and studying him more closely this time.

 

When she said nothing, he dipped his head and turned to leave – finally letting her have what she wanted – but as he was leaving she finally spoke. **“Thank you.”** He stopped and turned around, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smile. **“For your words of reassurance and for taking care of my tree.”**

**“It was my pleasure.”**

Regina closed her eyes and smiled so softly, as if someone had tickled her face with a feather. She rarely believed the compliments people paid her these days - the truths they claimed to express. They were always just to flaunt and impress her. But there was something sincere about the groundskeeper. Even if she didn't know him, she believed he was telling the truth. She had heard the genuineness in his voice the first time, and she heard it again.

 

**“This tree is one of the few pleasures I have left in this world,”** she informed him, standing up to leave. She turned and gazed at the lifeless tree, lifting her gaze up toward the sky at the pale blue, almost white winter sky. Without a second thought about her other companion, Regina walked away. She'd had enough of the cold, enough of daydreaming, of people infringing upon her territory. She would find Henry and spend an hour or two with him, perhaps read to him or just watch him play.

 

Remaining rooted where he was, Robin's gaze followed the Queen. His eyes had been locked on her from the moment he saw her sitting under her apple tree until her departure, as unfortunately abrupt as it had been. He'd always thought women to be mysterious creatures, but the Queen was more than just enigmatic. Her love and devotion to the apple tree was, perhaps, one of the many little quirks of hers that drew him to her. Most nobility didn't give a damn about fruit or shrubbery. And many of them did not bother to spend more than five or ten minutes outdoors for fear of getting a sunburn. But the Queen? Robin had many times observed her by her apple tree, or here in the gardens with a little boy – and for hours on end. Nature was where she seemed to be happiest – and he could certainly relate to that.

 

She was a paradox – on occasions she fit here seamlessly, and then on other occasions it seemed as if she didn't belong here at all. It caused him to wonder why she had married the King, especially on the rare occasion when he caught that look on her face – like today. Such a look of pain. He recognized it: he'd worn it before himself.

 

After casting one last glance at the apple tree, Robin turned on his heel and left the gardens just as the blue in the sky mutated to white, and snow began to fall lightly. Robin glanced up at the sky. He'd never been particularly fond of winter – they were harsh, it bites and lashes at you, and you were made acutely aware of all the suffering and struggling of your neighbors. At least, when you were part of the lower classes you were. But maybe this winter would be different.


	2. 02

The crunch of snow and the sound of swearing alerted Robin to company, and he looked up from what he was carving to see Will heading toward him with an armful of wood. He greeted Will with a smile and resumed carving the horse for Roland, only to take a step back a few seconds later. The wood Will was carrying landed with a crash in front of Robin's feet on the porch of the cabin.

“ **Don't bloody help me, mate.”** Will pants as he doubles over, hands on his knees and sweat dripping from his forehead. He sweat more during the winter than in the summer, what the bloody hell. He reached up and used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat trickling down the side of his head.

“ **You said you could handle it.”** Robin shrugs and picks up a couple pieces of firewood, heading back inside to join Roland. He tosses the wood into the fire, stoking it once more and then sets the newly carved horse in front of Roland.

The boy smiles delightedly and reaches for it, inspecting it and then jumps down from the table and goes to find his other toys so the horse can join them. Robin watches him disappear into the other room, a fond smile on his face. When he turns, his fond smile transforms to a smirk.

“ **You're a git.”** Will slams the door behind him, stomping his way over to warm himself beside the fire. He stands in front of the fireplace, rubbing his hands together as Robin clears the dishes from the table. **“Oi, you got any chicken left?”** Will asked, glancing over his shoulder as he hears the plates clinking together.

“ **Don't you have anyone to feed you back at your own place? In fact, don't you have your _own_ place?” **Despite his annoyance, Robin places the last few pieces of chicken on the plate and takes it over to Will by the fireplace.

**“I do have my own place, in fact**.” Ignoring the first part of the question, he stuffs a piece of chicken into his mouth and continues explaining, **“But I hate doing dishes. I’m not a particularly good cook, either. You, my friend, are an excellent chef. You should think about ditching this place and finding a position in town. Woo some taste buds and earn some money. Eventually buy yourself some fancy manor somewhere so I can sponge off of you, y’know?”**

**“You have no scruples, do you?”** When Will shakes his head and continues to devour the chicken, Robin laughs and takes a seat across from Will. **“I have no intention of doing any of that,”** he informed him.

**“So you’re just going to toil away up at that pretentious old place?”** Will asks, referring to the castle just North of where they are. If he shifted just a little and looked out the window, he could see the tip of the castle from the window. Not that he would or wanted to. He was enjoying the chicken and didn’t want to feel it come up.

**“Maybe.”** At least for now, he thinks to himself. He earns more up there than he has at any place in a long time. Furthermore, he got respect – which wasn’t something a groundskeeper always got. But aside from the pay and the respect, he liked getting a glimpse of _her_ now and then. It was a rare glimpse, granted, but when he did see her it made his day.

Will notes his silence and the far-away look in his eyes, at first not giving much thought. **“ _Maybe_ ,” **he echoes, narrowing his own eyes at Robin. **“What the bloody hell does that even mean?”** He waved a frustrated hand in the air before grabbing the last piece of chicken from his plate and stuffing it in his mouth. **“Maybe, yes I will waste away up there, or, Maybe, no I won’t waste away up there. Maybe one day I’ll overthrow that old git sitting on his fat ass and that Ice Queen and be king?”**

**“Remind me, are you always such an ass?”**

**“It’s been a long time since we’ve socialized, hasn’t it?”**

Robin chuckles and massages his forehead with the palm of his hand, trying to work away an oncoming migraine – whether from the cold weather, this discussion, Will’s facetious remarks or a combination of all three, he’ll never know. **“I tend to block out most of our time together,”** he admits, and wasn’t _entirely_ teasing. After they went separate ways he usually just ‘forgot’ and moved on to the rest of his day.

And remembering what else he had said about those _royals_ sitting up there, Robin shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t even speak up about it, but he couldn’t help himself. **“Leopold isn’t that bad. He’s just-…”** Robin pauses, searching for the right word.

**“Ignorant?”** Will throws in, helping Robin out a little.

**“No, not that. I’m not sure what he is, but he could be worse. I know that. As for the Queen, she’s not cold. She’s just – she’s lonely.”**

**“How do you even know what she is? It’s not like you’ve talked to her?”** Will scoffs, cracking his neck from side to side as he glanced from the fire and then to Robin. He hesitates a moment before pushing himself out of the chair and busying himself with picking up after Roland. He could feel Will’s accusatory gaze on him, but he ignored his friend. **“You _have_ talked to her,” **guessed Will. Correctly.

Robin flinched slightly, not replying to affirm nor deny whether he has or not. He knew it was wrong. Fraternizing with _them._ Well, with _her_ , more like. Who knew how much trouble being around her could cause him – could cause both of them. But no one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing – or maybe even a bit tragic. The fact that no one seemed to notice where she spent her days, and who with.

**_“No one seems to notice my absence,”_ ** _she says. She sat as a statue, her hands folded in her lap. There was no one but him, Roland and Henry and yet she still held herself with grace and composure, refused to let herself relax the smallest bit and enjoy the relatively warm day for the winter weather._

**_“I highly doubt that. I’m sure Henry would notice.”_ **

_Regina let out a soft little laugh and he saw a small smile turn up the corner of her mouth. **“Perhaps. But he’s young, and as close as we are – or as close as I like to think we are-…”** she trails off, unable to finish her thoughts. **“I’m rather envious of what you and Roland have,”** she admits, causing Robin to laugh. She turned her gaze on him, sharply, and arched a brow in response to his laughter. **“You dare laugh at your Queen?”** she asks, her tone full of jest, not threat. _

**_“It’s just, I can’t imagine what you could possibly envy us for?”_ **

_The envier turns to the envied and felt sorry for Robin that he couldn’t understand why she was jealous of his and Roland’s situation. With a wistful smile, she replies, **“It’s only you and your son, and in a way, everything is so simple.”** They could easily leave this place, this land, and nobody would notice. No one would care. As often as Regina thought nobody noticed her absence, she knew Leopold would notice and send a cavalry after her. She was trapper here whether she liked it or not, but they weren’t. **“That is why I envy you.”**_

_Regina stood up, smoothing her hands over her gown. She called out to Henry – he ignored her at first, continuing to play with Roland, his newest friend. The two boys scooped up as much snow as possible - the courtyard was cleared of it every day and every day it just snowed again, the ground once more being made to resemble powdered sugar. **“Henry,”** Regina calls out once more, and this time the brown-haired boy turned around to look at his mother. **“Come.”** She gestures that it’s time they return to the castle and warm themselves._

**“I have,”** Robin finally answers. He stands by the window, staring out into the darkness. Seeing nothing but the shapes of the trees and the castle in the distance. **“Just the other day. Roland and her son are becoming quite close. I think it’s good for Roland to have a friend. Not a lot of kids around here.”**

**“Yeah,”** Will scoffs and then adds, **“Him becoming friends with the Ice Queen’s son. Peachy idea.”** There’s a moment’s pause and Robin hears Will come up behind him and then he’s standing across from him, giving Robin a stern expression. Quite unlike Will. **“You know I’d never tell you what to do.”** Robin arches a brow at him, incredulous. **“Shut up. Just be careful, mate. You’re going down a dangerous road. Falling in love with a Queen. You sure aim high.”** Will snickered, reaching over and shoving Robin’s shoulder in good-humor.

**“I’m not falling in love with a Queen,”** he said, shaking his head at Will. **“With her.”** His reply was half-hearted, unconvincing both to Will and himself.


	3. 03

**“The snow will be gone soon.”** And once the snow was gone, life would return to the village and all the surrounding areas. Everyone, including herself, perhaps, wouldn’t seem so sedated. With winter came some sort of resignation, an acceptance of defeat. But at the same time there was an acknowledgement that people had to work twice as hard in the coming months or they’d freeze and starve to death. It was a cruel world.

Regina tore her gaze away from the view outside and looked down at the book in her hand. She turned it over, running her fingers down the spine. When she looked back up, she saw Belle’s reflection in the window and she watched as the other woman bent over the cups on the table, teapot in her hand, heard the water streaming from the kitchenware and pouring into the teacups. Turning around, she mustered a smile and went over to join her.

 **“Thank you.”** She held up her book, as well as gestured toward the cups of tea set out. It was becoming routine for her, them – meeting once, sometimes twice a month. She, Regina, would find some excuse to leave the castle for an hour or two and walk to Belle’s to borrow a book. She’d stay for a little while, conversing with her acquaintance. They’d been doing this so long, it seemed, however, that the fellow bookworm was becoming more of a friend than a mere acquaintance. Or so Regina would hope. As a Queen, or the Queen, one didn’t have many friends. At least, not genuine friends.

 **“It’s my pleasure. That’s an excellent one, by the way.”** Belle indicated the book in the Queen’s hand. It was poetry this week, instead of the usual adventurous tales of heroes and heroines, she noted. **“I think you’ll enjoy it, if you’ve a romantic craving.”** Belle smiled, arching one of her brown-tinted brows at Regina.

 **“Perhaps.”** She set the book down on the table, taking a seat across from Belle. Looking about the room, Regina looked at the bookshelves with envy – she had an eclectic array of literature. She did as well back at the castle, but everything was more for Leopold than Regina.

Cradling the teacup between her hands, Belle tilted her head to the side and gazed at Regina. It was still taking some getting used to, having a _Queen_ as a guest in her home. Which made the bibliophile all the more curious about the other woman’s monthly outings to retrieve the books sitting on these shelves. Belle could more easily drop a few of the hardcovers in a bag and walk up to the castle and drop them off, saving Regina the long walk herself – as well as from ruining her dresses and tiring herself out. **“I’m expecting more copies next month,”** Belle informed her, smiling at her over the rim of her cup. **“I’ll drop them off at the castle.”**

**“No need. I’ll come by to pick them up as usual.”**

**“I am curious about something,”** Belle began, gently placing her teacup on the tabletop. **“Why make repeated trips out to me when I can easily come to you?”** She had never dared ask her before – out of either offending her or overstepping some unknown boundary, or just respecting Regina’s privacy, she wasn’t sure. But today, she felt like something new had been formed between them.

Regina froze, the teacup poised an inch or two from her lips. She stared down into the liquid, pressing her lips together. She wasn’t unsettled by Belle’s question, but rather surprised it had taken her so many months to ask. **“Because I enjoy the company of another,”** she answered. Other reasons? She felt less alone. Less like a Queen of Nothing.

She looked up at Belle, studying her face. The other woman’s lips were parted slightly and her face was working, trying carefully to choose her next words. **“Then I guess we’ll keep meeting here,”** she finally said, a smile softening her features.

 **“You could’ve said no, and then I simply could have had you arrested for displeasing your Queen,”** Regina teased, smiling over the rim of her teacup. She sipped the warm, sweet liquid, feeling it traveling down her throat and sending pleasant shivers throughout her body.

Belle leaned forward, not a trace of intimidation found in her eyes. **“Then where would you go for such delightful company?”** Belle teased back.

 **“I’d have all your books.”** With a smug smile, Regina stood up and went over to one of the bookshelves. As soon as she turned around, her smile faded. She placed her hand on the edge of the wooden shelf, digging her nails into it and considering her next words, carefully. **“Do you ever wish you’d gone another way?”** she said at last. **“Done something differently?”**

Belle stared at Regina’s back, studied her sagging shoulders and the loose strands of hair brushing the back of her neck. **“Some things, yes.”** She paused a moment, looking down. **“I would bring my mother back if I could.”** She knew there was no magic in the world to bring someone back from the dead, but one could always dream about it.

**“That’s it? You’re happy here?”**

Belle nodded, even emitted a soft laugh. **“I am happy, despite…”** she trailed off, indicating the lack of a mother. She had her father, whom she cherished even more now, motherless. **“My books make me happy. They give me solace and reassurance when I need it. They let me know I’m not alone in the universe; I get to live in different worlds and go on adventures with other people. I know I’m probably going to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I’m not entirely content with that, and if there’s ever an opportunity for me to leave, I’ll take it. But for now, I’ll live vicariously through these fictional friends of mine. I know it all makes me sound singular, but I like to think I’ve never been normal and never will be. Normal is a bit overrated.”**

 **“I wish I could be as certain in my convictions as you.”** Regina smiled, only half-heartedly, however. In some things she was firm. Henry. Daniel. Her solitude, the time she needed to herself. Her apple tree. But other times – other times she was less certain. Marrying Leopold had been the right choice, hadn’t it? _Of course,_ one voice told her. And then there was another voice that told her, incessantly, that what she had done had been her mother’s design. _Of course it had been her mother’s design. This is my happy ending,_ she had said. **“I should be going.”**

She had taken up far too much of Belle’s time. No doubt she had better things to do, and besides, she had the castle all to herself. For once, she had the opportunity to lounge in the library, able to enjoy a book for however long she wished without interruption.

Feeling what best could be described as cold water rushing over her, Belle mustered a smile. “Would you like some company on your walk back?” she inquired. She knew it was foolish to feel a bit – well, she wasn’t sure how she felt. She knew she was disappointed. Their monthly tête–à–têtes only lasted an hour, perhaps less. When Regina left, Belle felt as if she was losing something that didn’t rightly belong to her in the first place.

 **“I’ll be fine.”** After assuring Belle she could manage the walk back alone, Regina grabbed her bag of goods and left, leaving by a secret backway and lifting the hood of her cloak as she fell into step behind a family. She trailed behind them through the dusty streets, keeping her head down and the side of her face obscured with the hood of the cloak. Now and again, she chanced a glance up, observing the people around her. No one paid any attention to her, no one seemed to realize who she was. Her current anonymity felt-… it was a mixture of bad and good. It’s always a mixture.

Life, in general, is chaotic. It’s common knowledge you can’t have one thing without the other – you can’t be happy without something bad happening to you the next minute. Regina had felt not exactly happy the past week, being on her own with only Henry, but she felt a sense of peace. And that peace was as good as anything else. She was afraid of too much happiness. She had learned to fear such a thing.

Yet everyone around her accepted happiness with such easiness. There was no one in their lives threatening to take it away or even insinuate themselves in their lives to cause misery. She envied them, and a part of her almost wished someone would disrupt their lives and wreak havoc. As much as she envied them and wished to live like them, however, another part of her wouldn’t change a thing. She’d much rather suffer herself than wish any of her unhappiness upon Henry. She’d prefer to spare him as long as possible from the cruelness of others.

 **“Is Henry with you?”** A young boy’s voice pulled Regina out of her reverie. Startled by the mention of her son, Regina was suddenly pulled back to reality and realized she had stopped walking and had been watching a group of children playing. Seeing Roland standing in front of her, eagerly smiling and possibly hoping Henry was with her, she cursed herself for stopping and not paying attention to her surroundings, allowing herself to drown in her emotions.

 **“No,”** she replied. **“I’m sorry.”** Without another word, she quickly stepped around him and lowered her head, continuing through town. Regina reached down, taking a handful of her dress in her hands and lifting the hem of her dress an inch or two off the dusty ground to hasten to her steps. As she rounded the corner, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder and noticed she wasn’t alone. Trailing after her with an eager look on his face was Roland, his little legs working as fast as they could. She tried to ignore him, forcing her gaze ahead of her – and she almost made it another few steps but then she turned around and looked down at Roland. **“And wha-”**

 **“Roland?”** His voice was deep and warm, soft like velvet. And when speaking to Roland it was so full of love, even when he was surprised to find Roland in such a place. She looked up at the sign on the building, indicating a tavern. Definitely a surprise. **“What are you doing here?”** He stepped in front of Regina, picking up Roland in his arms. The boy pointed at her, at Regina, in explanation.

She angled her body away from them, hiding her face as best she could. But she knew she had been discovered. **“Queenie,”** she heard Roland say, unable to suppress the smile that stretched from one side of her face to the other.

There was a low murmur and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roland run away in the other direction, leaving her and Robin alone together. Turning to face him, she looked up at her companion, her hood sliding back just enough to reveal her russet brown eyes. **“Were you about to take my son into a tavern?”** he inquired.

 **“What? No, I was just-”** His little side-smirk caused her to pause, and then she quickly caught on. She _hmph_ ed, shaking her head at him and his teasing. First Belle and now him? Who was next? And since when did she allow herself to become so easily gullible and teased? Not that she didn’t enjoy it… Realizing she should be leaving before anyone recognized her – and back at the castle before someone sent out a search party – Regina began taking a few steps back, angling her body to turn. **“I should go. I don’t want to keep you away from Roland.”**

 **“Let’s have a drink first.”** Robin took a step forward, stopping her by reaching out a hand and brushing it against her elbow. **“After all, we are already here.”** He gestured toward the tavern entrance, closing the entrance between it and him and holding the door open for her. When she didn’t move after several moments, he leaned toward her and said in a hushed whisper, **“No one will recognize you, m’lady.”** Inside, they were either too drunk or didn’t care who was whom around here. People were good at keeping secrets.

She hesitated. All her months of slyness with Belle, moments which were dear to her, could be destroyed by an impulsive decision. Furthermore, _he_ may trust those inside and trust that they are good at keeping secrets, but did she?

She trusted Robin. When that reason floated into her mind, Regina took a step forward into the bar and left her other doubts outside, for the time being. She felt Robin’s hand find a place along her waist, guiding her toward a table in the far corner. She resisted the urge to glance down, but without much control her eyes quickly found his hand, his fingertips grazing her hip bone.

As soon as they were close enough to the table, Regina detached herself from Robin’s side and slid herself down onto the seat, her back facing everyone else in the tavern. She the hood of her cape back as Robin excused himself, getting them some drinks and then returning a few moments later with two tankards filled with ale. Regina accepted hers and lowered her head, inhaling the bitter-sweet aroma. **“So,”** Robin began, scrutinizing her. Regina straightened, lifted her chin to meet his eyes. **“What brings you all the way down here, _m’lady_?” ** One side of his face twitched with the effort of holding back a smile, but the hint of brazen was there.

 **“I was visiting a friend. Not that it’s any of your concern,”** she added, lightly. She wrapped her fingers around the tankard, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip of the ale. She swished the liquid around inside her mouth a few moments, the way you do when tasting wine, before she finally swallowed and enjoyed the alcohol settle in her belly.

His lips parted and then he paused, as if changing his mind about what he was going to say. **“So, you mingle with us commoners, d’you? I wasn’t sure you ever leave that grand castle of yours, you know.”**

She looked around the tavern, making sure no one had heard what he said. _Grand castle_ or any of that. But they didn’t seem to be paying attention. Indeed, none of them were in the least bit interested in them, the newcomers. They were too busy fondling the drinks between their hands or reciting ballads as best they could from memory.

 _[_ _"Make your choice o' whom you please,_  
  For I my choice will have;  
I've chosen a maid more fair than thee,  
  I never will deceive."]

 **“I mingle,”** she echoed. **“And yes, I leave that grand castle, though it’s not as grand as you might think.”** She sighed, her words coming out more critical than she might have intended, and for that she was sorry. But she didn’t apologize for the way she sounded. Instead, she took another swig of her ale, feeling slightly better after the second sip.

 **“And so you come here, to escape.”** It wasn’t a question but a fact, and it hadn’t taken him long to understand. **“Who do you visit, if you don’t mind my asking?”**

One word, it was easy enough to answer. But Regina struggled. She had so few secrets of her own that giving away Belle’s name felt like giving away a part of herself. But if she let Robin in on her, their secret, maybe, just maybe, he’d help her? **“It’s Belle,”** she finally replied. **“We meet once or twice a month to just… talk. And I also borrow her books. I return them promptly, of course. I did lose one once, though.”** To see a bibliophile react to the news of a lost book is quite a thing.

His muffled laughter made her look up. At first, she was offended – thinking he was laughing at her. But the way he was laughing… She soon began laughing, as well. He ran his hand over his mouth as his laughter subsided. **“Yes, I’m familiar with Belle. Very overprotective of her books.”**

 **“What about you?”** she asked. **“What friend or friends do you visit here, if I may ask?”**

He tapped the side of the tankard with his fingertips and used this moment to ruminate, to use these few moments to study Regina closely. Now that they were alone – truly alone – he could actually _look at her._ Her raven hair. It looked soft, so soft he wanted so badly to reach out and run his fingers through it. And her eyes – so warm and brown and inviting, calming. They pierced you in. And then there was that elusive smile that was only given on rare occasions. **“I have many friends,”** he finally said, tearing his gaze away from her and looking down at his drink between his hands. He picked it up, taking a long swig before setting it back down again. **“The closest one near here is Will. He actually visits me frequently at home,”** he added, the misery distinct in his tone. **“It’s like living with two children sometimes.”**

 **“Oh, Roland doesn’t seem _that_ bad,” **Regina replied, in the boy’s defense. **“He’s quite adorable.”**

 **“He would agree with you.”** In fact, just the other day someone commented on how cute Roland was and he overheard her and agreed with her and then thanked her. **“Henry is adorable, too. I can see how he takes after you. I mean, in other ways.”** He sighed, clearing his throat a second later.

 **“He’s-… reminding me more of his father every day,”** she managed to say. Regina gazed at Robin a moment and then she looked down, a smile lingering only a few moments.

He knew what she was experiencing. Every thought, every emotion. How every nerve in her body must feel. And Robin also knew he probably shouldn’t pursue the matter, but he also knew that talking helped. Losing someone is bad enough, but pretending they never existed is even worse. **“What happened to him?”**

 **“He died.”** Regina pressed her lips together, preventing more of an explanation from escaping. She stared down into her drink, the tankard still almost completely full. She’d barely enjoyed the alcohol since sitting down. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be very fun inebriated, at least not today. Not now – not that it was Robin’s fault, though she had brought up Daniel. Or alluded to him, rather. **“Before Henry was born, so he doesn’t know much about him. He doesn’t even know what he looks like. I mean, I’ve described him to Henry, but it’s not the same, you know? What about Roland’s mother?”**

 **“Marian, she, uh - ”** he broke off, nodding. **“She died, as well. A couple years after Roland’s death she fell ill and died.”** Losing someone is never the way you think it is. It doesn’t happen all at once. It’s a gradual process. Every day you lose something else of her, or him, until finally there’s nothing left but a gaping, bleeding hole that person used to occupy within yourself.

**“I’m sorry.”**

**“I’m sorry, too.”**

He slid his hand across the table, whether with his conscious thought or not he’d never know. As soon as their fingertips brushed against one another it was like a Divine sign, some holy power watching over them and making sure they behaved themselves. In the opposite corner, a table was knocked over, sending the food and drink spread on top all over the floor and a fight broke out.

Robin and Regina looked from the fight and back to each other and, minds synced, they quickly stood up and hurried out the back exit of the tavern. Once outside, they collapsed against the side of the tavern, Robin looking around to make sure no one was following or watching them. **“Is it always like that in there?”** she asked.

 **“You happened in on a special day.”** He paused, glancing down.

She followed his gaze, her lips parting in surprise. She squeezed his hand, stroked the hollow area between his thumb and index finger with her thumb without meaning to. She suddenly felt terrible and wrenched her hand out of his, making an excuse. **“I should go. People will be wondering where I am and that’s the last thing I need. Suspicion and curiosity.”** She pulled the hood of her cape up, obscuring her face. She turned, walking down the alley but then stopped as she reached the street. She turned back to face Robin, adding, **“Thank you. For today.”** She opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came. There was really nothing else that needed saying between them.


	4. 04

It was June and everything smelled of roses. The roses, lilies, periwinkles, daisies, primroses, violets and gillyflowers (just to name a few) were all in vivacious bloom. And her tree, finally, had slowly birthed back to life over the months. From her perch on the balcony, she could see the apples, red as blood, dangling from the braches of the tree. And below the tree, _he_ stood.

She smiled, absentmindedly tracing her fingertips along the edges of the rose petal, watching as Robin reached up every now and then and yanked an apple from one of the branches. He placed one in a basket right after the other, one, two, three, at least half a dozen. She could go down later and help the cook prepare apple turnovers, steal a couple for later in the night.

She tilted her head to the side, leaning against the pillar for support as her eyes studied Robin more curiously, her breathing syncing with his movements – his muscles straining as he reached up, fingers wrapping around a bright red apple and then pulling it off a branch. She could hear a dull snap from below, heard as he dropped the apple into the basket, watched as he reached back up and as he reached up again, his shirt rising up and partially exposing some of his tanned flesh. She knew the proper thing to do was look away, but…

**“You certainly have a type.”**

 The sound of her voice startled Regina, who clutched the edge of the balcony, crushing the rose in her other hand and dropped it on the floor as she turned around to face her mother. It was just like her to appear out of nowhere and at the most inconvenient times, observe her during her most private moments.

 **“First a stable boy and now – what is he?”** she paused, searching for the right words. **“Gardener, game-keeper?”** She _tsk_ ed disapprovingly at Regina, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Regina’s dark hair behind her ear.

 **“And what would you know about anything?”** she asked, turning her head and looking in the other direction, away from her mother and from Robin, as well.

Cora smiled, laughing with delight at Regina’s continued denial. **“Oh, my dear.”** She shook her head, lifting her gaze from Regina to her daughter’s new… whatever he was. **“I always know everything,”** she continued, returning her gaze to Regina.

Regina narrowed her eyes, stepping on and crushing the rose as she followed Cora back inside the castle. **“Have you been spying on me?”** she demanded, cornering her mother by the mirror hanging on the wall. She, Cora, looked at her reflection, running her pale fingers along her slender neck.

For a moment she ignored Regina. **“Spying?”** she finally echoed. **“Servants talk, dear. And you’re a Queen. Your behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.”** Finally, she tore her gaze away from her own reflection and to her daughter. **“Did you really think I’d just leave you to your own devices?”**

Regina’s face hardened, hiding the hope that she had finally been free from her mother’s infinite grasp – ever reaching, of course. How could she have been so ignorant? After all, she had been the one to arrange all of this. Was this not _her_ life, _her_ marriage in a way? Regina was living the life Cora wanted. **“Of course not.”**

She turned, angling her body away from her mother but keeping her eyes on her. **“You two haven’t been as subtle as you like to think.”** Walking over to Regina, Cora reached up and caressed her rosy cheek. **“I remember what it feels like, to be infatuated with someone,”** she continued. **“It’s like a remedy, isn’t it?  The thrill of it all, causing you to forget your worries or boredom. But don’t confuse infatuation with love – both are so very different, my dear. Both will come to nothing.”** Her final words were decisive, full of warning and threat.

Regina backed away, staring down her mother. Memories of Daniel came rushing back – happy, at first. When they first met, first kiss, and then their final moments – her mother speaking to him and then suddenly he had dropped to the floor, lifeless. She thought of Robin in that same scenario and closed the distance between her and her mother, determined. **“You forget who I am, _mother._ I am no longer just your little girl, a doll to play with and control. I’m Queen now – you have no control over me. Your threats and warnings no longer have any sway. **

**“If you ever come near me or Robin again,”** she continued, close enough to her mother now that she could feel Cora’s warm breath bounce against her face, **“If you threaten him or I ever again, I will have you charged with treason. And no one will miss you when you are gone.”**

She kept her gaze locked on Cora’s, shoulders tensed. She could feel something surging through her – her veins and blood, up and down her arms, out through her fingertips, throughout her entire body. She expected any moment for some sort of spark to appear from her fingertips.

 **“You’re playing a very dangerous game,”** Cora finally replied. **“And not just with me.”**

 **“I’m willing to take the risk.”** Yet, a part of her wavered. She knew how dangerous her mother could be. She’d seen it firsthand, what Cora was willing to do – for love and for revenge. Was she willing to put Robin in harm’s way?

Yet, a part of her was reassured that Cora would do nothing. That Regina’s threat had worked. **“We’ll see.”**

After Cora left, exiting in a cloud of purple smoke, Regina slowly made her way back out to the balcony. She bent over, picking up the flower she had dropped and crushed, petals falling to the ground. She threw the remnants over the side of the balcony, watching as the red figure dropped and became smaller and smaller.

When Regina looked back up, she looked for Robin. He glanced back as he was leaving, lifting his gaze and catching her watching him. She smiled back, biting down on her lip to control her features.


	5. 05

_Rebel._ That’s what every nerve and bone in her body whispered, no, raged at her to do. After Cora’s visit, Regina ruminated over her words. Her threats hovered like a bad cloud for weeks afterward, poisoning her thoughts and souring her mood every time she and Robin came into contact. _Love is weakness,_ she reminded herself.

Despite her mantra – _love is weakness, love is weakness, love is weakness_ – and her mother’s threats, Regina was not the same person anymore. She had changed. And her mother, and her threats, no longer held sway over her.

Robin and Regina met secretly.

They conversed and went on daily strolls.

They sat together under her apple tree and occasionally met by the lake south of the castle. They talked of anything and everything – of important and inconsequential things. Henry and Roland. Daniel and Marian. Books. The weather and how the other was fairing.

They shared jokes, as well. He made her laugh – genuinely. It was the first time – except for when she was with Henry – when her laughter was not forced. And her smile was a most peculiar smile. She would give him an elusive smile, a playful one and then, sometimes, if it was even possible, a smile filled with hope after something he had said.

Although she had not voiced _all_ of her thoughts, she confessed for years she had lived with the guilt that she had killed Daniel, in a way. He died because he loved her. And guilt is one of the worst evils in the world; it appears unexpectedly and when it does, it’s like stoking a flame to burn hotter and brighter.

 **“It’s hardest for those of us left behind.”** To die is so simple, sometimes even peaceful. The living had to continue on with guilt and regret. **“Sometimes I wonder…”** she broke off, unable to finish.

And then just as quickly, those cracks would vanish and Regina would once more put up those walls. Robin noticed and, though he said nothing about her sudden change in demeanor, he responded, **“When my wife died, the hardest part was learning to start over. No one ever tells you that’s the hardest part. I learned a lot of things on my own, including that it’s all a choice. You can live in the past, with a broken heart, your regret, and your guilt; or you can choose to let go and forgive yourself.”** He paused, watching as his words, hopefully, sank in and took root. **“We all get a second chance. You just have to open your eyes to see it.”**

She turned to look at him and, her face, which had been devoid of color and expression, slowly came to life and she smiled. It didn’t take Robin long to start regularly thinking, even dreaming about that elusive smile of hers.

The change in her become noticeable – to some. To Belle it was impossible to miss. She’d never seen Regina lost in thought so often or smile for no reason. **”Either my tea is unusually spectacular, or there is something else affecting your behavior,”** Belle observed.

 **“Mm?”** Lounging by the window, a mug of tea balanced on her lap, Regina looked over at Belle. **“What did you say?”** She shook her head and then reached up with one hand, stroking a sun-kissed cheek. Belle spoke again, observing Regina’s unusually… fanciful behavior. **“It’s a little bit of both,”** Regina replied. She lifted the mug of tea to her lips, smiling over the rim as she took a sip.

 **“Care to divulge?”** Belle asked, her eyes alight at the prospect of gossip.

She breathed in sharply. For a moment, Regina was going to tell her everything. It felt wrong keeping such a secret from her, after all, Belle was her only friend. She had been good to her, and Regina knew she could trust her. Beyond a doubt. But it needed to be a secret for a little longer. **“Not yet. But I will tell you, I promise.”**

 **“Okay. I’m here if you need or want to talk.”** she added. **“About anything.”**

Regina watched her arrange her books, making more room on her shelves. The way she so easily, effortlessly dropped the subject, as if it didn’t bother her – Regina wasn’t sure whether it comforted her or made her even more suspicious of Belle’s uncanny ability to pry secrets out of her.

 **“There is one thing,”** Regina finally said, not bothering with her façade. She looked out the window and onto the street, hearing faint laughter emanating from somewhere nearby. The sound of books being stacked on the shelves had stopped and Belle sat across from her in the oriel window. **“It’s back, the dream. I know it’s well past the grieving, mourning date,”** she continued. Almost two years. She was far beyond the mourning date, she thought. But was there really a limit to how long a person should spend wallowing in grief? The wallowing bit wasn’t her problem, however. **“Every time I dream and see Daniel I – it’s such a relief.”**

**“But?”**

A bittersweet smile appeared. **“In the dream Daniel always asks me to dance. I force myself to wake up before I give him an answer.”**

**“Why?”**

**“That night he was killed,”** Regina began, bracing herself. **“We were hosting a ball. I never got to dance with him. My mother, she – she knew about us. Somehow she found out that he planned on sneaking into the ball; that I was going to slip him into the ball. She thought I could do better than a stable-boy.”**

What was odd, and what sometimes felt wrong, was that she remembered the little things more often than not. The soft crunching of earth underneath her feet, she told Belle. The chirping of insects. The cool whip of wind against her cheek. There were a few horses snorting, pushing all the air in their lungs out through their nostrils. They had hated the moment as much as Regina, maybe more.

 **“She always had high expectations for me. Obviously,”** Regina added, indicating her current situation. She was living her mother’s dream, her mother’s life. Not her own. **“Because this is your happy ending,”** Regina said, echoing her mother. **“Do you believe love is weakness?”**

 **“Being hurt is part of being human,”** Belle said, leaning forward. **“There is nothing cowardly about showing someone you love them. There’s nothing weak about being honest and open with your feelings. Quite the opposite of weak, in my opinion. What’s weak about being honest and real, about yourself _and_ the person you love?” **She paused, letting her words sink in. **“The dream? Let it happen.”**

 **“Let it happen?”** Regina repeated, swallowing the words and letting the idea sink in. She continued to ruminate over the suggestion on her walk back to the castle, and as she sat and watched Henry playing in the garden later in the evening. _Let it happen._ Don’t fight it and let it happen.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: this is posted on fanfic.net, but I thought I'd start posting it over here, as well.


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